Breaking Promises
by Ill Ame
Summary: Sakura thinks about the past and tries to repeat her promise to Naruto. Inspired by and spoilers for chapter 296.


Author's Note: This piece will probably be proven impossible in a couple weeks, but the idea grabbed hold of me after I read chapter 296 and wouldn't let go until I wrote it out.

**Breaking Promises**

Sakura twists the edge of a white sheet through her fingers distractedly as her mind drifts back to another hospital bed two and a half years ago. Both his height and his hair were shorter then, his grin a bit wider, but he's still the same boy that she's sitting beside now. Sometimes, she needs to be reminded.

Sakura remembers the bandages that had covered the skin of his arms, his neck, his face and thinks that he ought to need them again this time. It seems impossible for the tanned hand lying on this bed to be whole, unmarked, when it was only a short time ago that she'd seen Naruto's face flake off like flecks of old paint. Only a short time ago that she'd watched not-Naruto go head-to-head with one of the most powerful men she's ever met. Only a short time ago that it was all they could do to stop the blood from flowing until his skin grew back.

His wounds aren't visible now; he's been drilling that fact into her head ever since their return. "I'm fine, Sakura-chan," Naruto tells her repeatedly, eyes full of guilt, smile stretching lips that have grown tighter over the years He's been gone. "Just tired. You don't have to worry."

_But_, she can't stop thinking, _Naruto_ _doesn't _get _tired_. And the feeling that she's missing something terribly and darkly important won't stop hovering over Sakura's head.

He's quiet now, his eyes at half-mast, and they've been avoiding each other's gazes, dancing around each other's apologies for the past half-hour. Two and half years ago, he'd made the earnest vow of a boy in love, a foolish promise to "bring Him back", the promise of a lifetime. "We'll do it together," she'd replied. Two and half years ago, she'd teased him awkwardly while his voice filled up with hope.

This time, they're lost and they've run out of promises and all Sakura can think to do is to repeat the one she isn't sure he heard the first time.

"You don't have to do this."

"Muh?" Naruto's eyelids snap open and he raises his head to stare at her, confused. "Sorry, I kind of lost you there. I think I was falling asleep." He laughs nervously, his hand rising weakly to the back of his neck in a twisted reflection of the old gesture she knows so well.

"You don't have to do this to yourself," Sakura repeats, meeting his eyes for the first time that day. Her voice is soft but as full of conviction as her fists, strengthened by the memory of taunts and roars and coal-dark eyes. "For me. For…Him."

But Naruto's frowning at her now, suspended between puzzled and angry, and still, in every move he makes, unbearably guilty. Sakura holds his gaze and wonders how his bright thirteen-year-old voice had been so persuasive when he spoke the same words to her. "I'll bring Sasuke back."

"Sakura-chan, what-?"

"Let me talk!" she interrupts, and is hit with a warped sense of déjà vu. "I know you always keep your word and I still remember the promise you made me, but I never thought you'd take it this far. You shouldn't do this to yourself."

Naruto brushes her words aside as if only he has matured, while Sakura remains the foolish tagalong she'd been before. He's not arrogant, merely surprised, unthinking, desperate to make up for the wrongs he feels she's suffered, so she reluctantly lets him speak.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" he protests, his voice edging on a pout, childish, while his words feel older than time. "And we're bringing him back together. Besides…" His face grows serious as his eyes drift away. Sakura watches his cheeks flush lightly when his gaze lands on the sunflower she placed at his bedside, and she wonders whether he's feeling pleased or embarrassed or guilty, if he's having this reaction because he loves her or because he _loves _her.

"It's not about a promise anymore," Naruto finishes softly, and Sakura knows he's not seeing the flower now, though he's practically staring a hole through it.

As his words sink in, they carry with them visions of keen eyes and a deadly smirk belonging to a boy forced to grow up too fast, even by the standards of a village whose children are trained to be killers. She is swept into a past filled with blushes and sighs and the scratching of a pen on paper as she tries the name 'Uchiha Sakura' on for size. Insults and shuriken alike flying from Sasuke to Naruto and back again as they spar. Sasuke saving Naruto saving Sakura saving Sasuke. Team 7, preserved in the photo in her bedroom, a copy of which she's taken to carrying in the inside pocket of her shirt, close to her heart.

She remembers her own frantic pleas as He walked away, crushing her promises under His feet.

And at the start of this mission-gone-to-hell, when that boy who had all of Sasuke's attitude and none of His passion spoke about the bastard traitor who'd broken both their hearts, his words cut deep because of the truth behind them. Because they'd still take a kunai for Sasuke, even if He wouldn't do the same for them. Because they could still remember the days when her trust, his determination, and the strength of their desperate hope seemed enough to bring Him back.

"It's not about a promise anymore."

Sakura finds that she's intimately acquainted with the meaning of those words.

_It never was._


End file.
